Now then. Today is a rubbish day for wife-seeing. I finished my night shift early, and was in bed for 6:30am. My lovely wife woke me at 12:20, and as I walked downstairs, she gave me a kiss, and a quick child-handover before leaving for work. She's working until 9:30 tonight. No more than a minute did we spend together. Working is shit.
Speaking of working, I am being sent on a course with work. It's a 3 day residential in High Wycombe. The course itself will be very useful for me in my job, but I am being sent on it with a complete knob. Not happy.
In work last night was a fat bloke. Not a normal fat bloke, but a massive fat bloke. He was sat next to me whilst I performed some tasks on the computers for him, and I could hear him breathing and wheezing next to me. It was like his body was secretly crying out for help. He was telling me how happy he was that he had to stay late at work because it meant he could have KFC for tea. I should have guessed that before he said it.
I have lots of tidying up to do this weekend, ahead of a visit from friends next weekend. They are old friends of my wife's, and we spent a night at each others houses twice a year. It's nice, but I always panic like mad incase I do stuff wrong. I'm not the best host, you see. I don't instinctively know what to offer people, and when. I base my hosting skills on my own wants and needs. So, no matter what time of day they arrive, I offer them beer. They mostly want to drink coffee, though. bah.
I also find meal preparation tricky. If I have the time, I can knock up a nice meal using... ingredients. But on these visits, I don't see that I have any time to be doing that. As well as the feeding of the friends, we "have" to arrange for an afternoon out somewhere, to pass the time. I think we are looking at taking the two birds with one stone option, and going out somewhere nice for something to eat!
Have I told you that my beard has gone? Yeah - I did 13 days, and whipped it off. It bugged me loads after that long.
I am well cold, sat here, in my living room. That's a point. Some people have a lounge - I have a living room. Are they the same room with different names?
AND - (here we go) why is it, that when women go shopping for, for example, a jumper - they pick up a jumper, take it off the hanger, feel it and try it against their body. You smile and say "that's nice", and they say "I don't like it". Why the FUCK did you pick it up and take it off the hanger and feel it and try it against your body then?! Surely you would look at it and think "nah", and move on. I love my wife dearly, and I don't blame her for this bizarre behaviour. I think it just comes with the boobs and fanny to be honest. She has no control over it.
Heard this track on the radio a fair bit recently. Absolutely love it. It helps that she's utter filth and very easy on the eye, too!
Right, time to haul my white ass into gear and get ready, get luke ready, then go and collect my children!
Until next time, god willing...
Si thi
